Running With Dragons
by Saravien
Summary: *Sequel to Rain of Roses* Two little words etched in stone will come to challenge everything Quistis Trepe has believed in. Finally, chapter two! Read and Review!
1. Discovery

_Disclaimer: Yup, Squaresoft still owns 'em. _

**Running with Dragons**

****

_Another day._

_Another day that I look in the mirror and tell myself I am not lonely. I am not empty inside. Another day that I turn out the light, and remind myself that whatever dreams may come, I will see him again someday. _

_To the world I am a stronger woman now than before. I walk these halls that have been my home for so many years.  I greet new faces and old friends alike with a smile on my lips. I laugh and carouse with them, train and fight with them. Everyone thinks I am okay. I am strong. I have known love and lived the better for it. _

_It is all a lie._

_How can I be better? I found my soul only to watch it walk away, swallowed by a gateway of light that would lead only into darkness. When the night is deep and I am alone, I am no longer so certain I will see him again. What if I won't? The fear creeps in and takes hold of me, keeping me still while sending me spiraling into nightmares. What if he has been irrevocably swallowed by that dark place that is not a normal part of this world? _

_What if he is gone forever?_

_Sometimes I catch a glimpse of a shadow just beyond my conscious vision. When I look, it disappears. Sometimes I think I hear his voice, whispering to me on the wind. When I strain to hear it, it is gone.  Sometimes he visits me in my dreams. And I ask him, is he real, or just my lonely hopes running rampant in my slumber._

_He never answers me._

_This story is not finished. It can't be. I won't live my life like this, an empty, walking ghost, simply wiling away the days until I die and can join him._

_If he is really dead._

_That is what I fear most. That he is not dead, but instead trapped, prisoner in that terrible place where nightmares are given form and voice. _

_There has to be more. I have to know. If he is dead, then I can move on in peace, because I will__ see him again. But if he is trapped, I have to free him._

_Sometimes, at dawn, I can smell the roses…_

The only sound to be heard in the small, dark dorm room was the incessant tapping of keys as Quistis Trepe typed away at her desk. It was long past curfew, and most of the Garden lay slumbering, escaping the demons inherent to their existence as mercenaries for yet another evening.

Quistis's demons were not so easily deterred.

She paused for a moment to lean back, stretching out her arms and stifling a yawn. The muscles in her neck and shoulders screamed in protest, begging for a nice hot shower and a good night's sleep. 

One hand lazily wiped blue eyes heavily laden with sleep. _I suppose I ought to quit for the night. A few clicks and she shut down her terminal, pushing away from the desk to look around her small room. She could have commandeered better quarters; since the Ultimecia "incident," she and the others were the highest paid SeeDs to ever walk Garden's hallways. She had never cared for opulence, however, and had chosen to keep her small quarters where she had lived for the last five years. They were the closest to home as she could get in the cold academy.  __Although, I hear Ms. Tilmitt's new quarters are quite splendid. _

She looked at her humble desk, adorned with only her computer terminal and a few photographs. One was of her and Irvine at the SeeD ball that had followed the successful destruction of Ultimecia. She ran her fingers gently over the second; a black and white photograph of a six year old boy standing in a garden. 

Turning away from the poignant memories the photo stirred, her eyes roved over the tiny living area, the kitchen corner with the mini fridge and four cabinets, the table, the coat rack by the door, the letter on the floor in front of the door.

Quistis blinked. Letter?

 She stood, cramped muscles crying in relief at the final release from hours of sitting. Walking to the door, she stooped down to lift the plain white envelope from the floor. Nothing was written on it, and it was unsealed. Carefully she reached in and pulled out a folded slip of paper.

Ms. Trepe,

            There is something which might interest you at the Almasy Memorial.

                                                                                                A Friend.

Quistis's eyes narrowed as she studied the plain, type-written note. _How did it even get in here? And who could've done it? Why?_

_You'll just have to go to the Memorial and find out._

Quistis scowled as that internal voice piped up. "Forget it," she whispered aloud. "Probably just a prank. Some cadets playing truth or dare. Or maybe a Trepie.  I'm just going to throw it away and forget about it." And with that, the letter found its way into the trashcan.

_Running._

_Hyne, she'd been running forever._

_The dark hall stretched before and behind her, seemingly endless. She knew there was an end, though. She just had to run fast enough…_

_Her legs ached and her lungs screamed, her heart pounding away in her ears as waves of red spread rhythmically through her vision. Still she ran, pouring every last shred of energy she possessed into the simple movement of her legs. Forward, forward. A sense of immediacy crushed down on her, spurring her on. _

_She had to reach him._

_She had to get there before it was too late. _

_Finally, ahead she saw something break the monotony of the long corridor. A widening, lights…she saw a room. She came up on it, skidding to a stop that nearly hurled her from her feet. As she gasped for breath, she looked around. The wall she had entered from was lined with bookshelves, filled with dusty old tomes that whispered of ancient power. The walls to her left and right held counters and shelves, full of vials and glass contraptions where liquids boiled and bubbled, running through tubes and turning gears. The fourth wall, in front of her, was a thick layer of clear glass. A faintly blue liquid filled the space beyond, as if it were a large fish tank. _

_Floating in the liquid was a man._

_Long ebony hair floated freely like a black cloud around his face. His eyes were closed, as if he were dead, but the bubbles that occasionally emitted from his nostrils indicated that he was, in fact, breathing. As she approached, horror scrawled across her face, he moved. _

_Those amethyst eyes bore through glass as they fluttered open. For a moment he was disorientated, confusion apparent on his angelic features. Then he saw her. His eyes widened, and he moved towards the glass, putting his hand against it._

_She reached up and laid her hand against the glass where his was, tears slipping hot trails down her face. His mouth moved, but there was no sound and she couldn't understand what he was saying. She began to look around frantically, searching for some way to get him out of the tank. _

_She heard pounding, and looked back up at him. His eyes were wide with fear, and this time she understood what he was trying to say._

_Run…_

Quistis sat up abruptly, drenched in a cold sweat. Her breath came in short, shaky gasps as she blinked furiously, trying to orient herself. The room finally stopped spinning, as she realized she was in her room. She was safe. 

He was gone.

A sob racked her body briefly before she contained it, swallowing the sorrow that welled up from her aching heart. "Just a dream, Trepe," she whispered to the dark room. She had been having many dreams since she'd returned to Garden. But none had been like this. None held this kind of intensity. None had been so real, driving at the very heart of her fears. 

The moon light streaming through the window illuminated the photograph sitting on her desk. It seemed to nearly glow with a light of its own. Beneath it, she noticed the letter peaking out over the top of the trash can. 

"Alright, already," she said. "I'll go in the morning. If Hyne decides to let me sleep!" 

The clicking of Quistis's heels echoed loudly through the recently constructed hanger as she walked briskly across the newly laid floor, the scent of fresh paint still heavy in the air. Light streamed through windows placed high on the walls, bathing the glorious draconic ship that was housed there in a cheery, early morning glow.

Shortly after the Ultimecia "incident," Garden had officially purchased the Ragnarok from Esthar, a sale made much easier by Laguna's influence. Now, they had finally gotten around to building a hanger for it. Word was that Garden was planning on purchasing more of the space-worthy airships, but these were as yet unconfirmed rumors. Honestly, Quistis cared little one way or the other. She paused a moment, scanning the area until she located…

Yes. There they were. She could just make out a flash of spikey blonde hair high on the side of the Ragnarok as she heard Zell's voice calling for a wrench. Zell and Selphie had adopted the Estharian ship and made it their project. Currently they were instructing other cadets and SeeDs to pilot it. Quistis herself had so far managed to avoid being caught in the class. She hadn't minded learning the weapons systems, but piloting was not really her cup of tea.

"Quisty!" Selphie squealed, catching sight of her as the blonde woman approached. She jumped down from the scaffolding she'd been perched on, bouncing over to where Quistis stood. "What's up? You in our class?"

"No," Quistis breathed thankfully, ignoring the hopeful gleam in Selphie's eye. She glanced at the open panel on the side of the crimson ship. "Is there something wrong with the Ragnarok?"

"Nah," Selphie replied. "Zell's just changing a divar tube. Why?"

"Well, I was hoping I could get someone to fly me out to the Almasy Memorial."

Selphie blinked. "The Memorial? What for?"

Quistis had expected Selphie would ask, so she'd prepared an excuse. She hated telling tales to her friend, but she felt compelled to not tell anyone about the mysterious letter. 

Or the dreams.

"An old classmate of mine…died in action last week. His name should be there now…I would like to see it."

"Oh," Selphie said softly. "I'm sorry, Quisty. Today the kids can work on schematics.  Soon as Zell's done, I'll fly you out there."

Selphie set the Ragnarok down just a bit south of the Almasy Memorial. She had offered to go in with Quistis, but Quistis had declined. This was something she had to do alone.

She paused a moment on the steps to look up and admire the beauty of the building she was approaching. Seven stories of carefully fitted black granite rose from the earth, the morning sun glinting off rows and rows of windows. The building was hexagonal in shape, and while the wide stone steps came off of one side, carefully tended gardens branched out from the other five sides. Topping the massive building was a dome of frosted glass that acted to reflect the sunlight in a sort of beacon that allowed the Memorial to be seen for miles around.

Cid and Edea Kramer had first proposed the idea of a memorial building to commemorate the SeeDs who had given their lives in the line of duty. Much to everyone's surprise, it was Commander Squall Leonhart who had proposed the site be named after their former classmate. With a few changes made to the original design, construction had begun on the Almasy Memorial.

No one knew if Seifer Almasy was dead or alive. He had been sighted in Fisherman's Horizon, but that had been nearly two years ago and no one had seen him since. As far as many of them were concerned, Seifer was dead to them, the matter of his drawing breath irrelevant. Quistis suspected Squall had wanted the memorial named after his rival in some way to combat his own fear of being forgotten, but the quiet commander had chosen to never comment. 

Quistis's thoughts dwelled on her errant student now as she walked through the double doors that slid open silently at her approach. Sometimes she wished she could see him just once more, to ask him why, hoping that the answer he could give would somehow redeem him and lift the responsibility of destruction from his—and indirectly, her—shoulders. She wanted the wipe away that last memory of him at the battle on the Lunatic Pandora, of staring at empty jade eyes as the blue magic tingled through her veins, pouring her anger and pain into a rippling wave of power that stole away the pride which had kept his head high.

She thought of that moment now as she looked up at the pillar that rose up the center of the building. Carved of black marble, the names of every SeeD who had ever died in the course of duty were engraved in its smooth surface. A black wrought iron staircase wound its way up and around the pillar, which went nearly as high as the building itself, so that visitors could look at the names higher up. Thankfully, at the moment the names only went about twenty five feet up. Quistis prayed she never saw the day when the pillar was full. 

The first thing a visitor saw when entering the Memorial, however, was the image of the Fire Cross that had once been emblazoned of Seifer's trenchcoat, inlaid with white marble on the front of the pillar. 

Beneath the Cross were the words of dedication, chiseled into the marble and filled with diamond dust. Quistis ran her fingers over the words solemnly. 

"In Memory of Our Fallen Knight,

Seifer Almasy.

For all that you were to us

And all that you might have been."

Quistis sighed softly, stepping back. No, she was fine never seeing Seifer again. The memorial was enough of him.

She was startled as the sound of steps clanged loudly in the quiet building, a figure descending from the wrought iron steps.

"Hello?" she called out, laying a hand on Save the Queen. 

"Oh, hello," a kind voice said as the figure came into view. He was an older man, probably in his mid-fifties, with gentle wrinkles lining his eyes. A gray apron covered his clothing, and he carried a small tool that resembled a drill in his hands. 

"Just been putting on a few new additions," he said, noticing her glance at the tool. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh," Quistis replied, relieved. _Well, what did you expect, Trepe? A ghost?_

_New additions?___

She watched as the man shuffled away, before turning to the staircase. She took a tentative step on the iron construction, then another, and soon found herself climbing, up and up, until she reached the top of the names. She touched the grooves that formed words, representations of lives lost.

"So many young ones," she whispered sorrowfully. "When will our names find their way here?" Then she noticed the names the caretaker must have been talking about. Freshly carved, their edges still sharp, these names stood out from the others. Sierra Nigel, Tomas Garomet…

And then her eyes widened with shock and disbelief as she read the last name.

Gabriel Andovar.

Author's Note: Well, guys, here it is, the sequel to Rain of Roses. I wasn't sure if it was ready, but decided to post it anyway. Anxiously awaiting your feedback, hope you enjoy!


	2. Questioning

_For a single moment—or perhaps it was an eternity—time stopped. My mind was reeling with shock as I feebly tried to grasp all the whirling thoughts and emotions inspired by a single name etched in marble. _

_Gabriel was a SeeD._

_Suddenly the world was upside down. The sun was green and the sky was red, the earth changed direction and the rain fell up. Everything I thought I knew was in question. Everything I'd believed…challenged._

_Gabriel was a SeeD._

_The implications nearly knocked me over as I began to pull thoughts from the chaos. That meant Ana had hired him through Garden. That meant someone in Garden knew about what they were trying to do, and didn't care. Hyne, he told me he'd been hired to seduce me. __Another SeeD operative. His mission required the disruption of mine. _

_I couldn't begin to fathom who could be behind all this. Was that why I was elected for the job in Starvale? Because someone somewhere knew I would be vulnerable to advances from a man well skilled in the careful maneuverings of seduction? So which had come first? Ana or Gefrey Vanderstyll?_

_Thank Hyne, no one had known of the dreams. They couldn't have. No one had counted on fate to bring two souls together again and disrupt all their precious little plans._

_So what did it all mean?_

_Although many had questioned SeeD's motives in the past, I had always brushed them aside. Yes, we were mercenaries. Yes, we killed for money. But somehow I had always believed that a sense of purpose lay behind each job. Surely SeeD was good enough to pick and choose their missions, and if the cause was not just, could afford to turn down the job. After all, SeeD had been paid but a pittance to send three operatives to a little back water town called Timber and free it from Galbadian control. Yes, I'd believed that we'd retained our morals, our humanity. _

_One simple fact altered that belief forever._

_Gabriel was a SeeD._

Quistis was pale as a ghost as she boarded the Ragnarok, silently gesturing for Selphie to take off. Selphie began to ask her what was wrong, but something churning in the depths of those blue eyes stopped her, sending a chill up her spine. 

Now Selphie watched Quistis carefully from the corner of her eye as she maneuvered the Ragnarok around the Garden towards the docking bay. Quistis's face was a porcelain mask, emotionless, and her eyes betrayed little but turmoil.

_I guess she must have been pretty close to that classmate, Selphie thought as she engaged the landing gear, waiting for the gentle jolt as the Ragnarok set down. They had barely touched the ground and Quistis was out of her seat, heading down the ramp and off the ship. _

Zell was walking across the hanger towards the ship, wrench in hand. "Hey, Quistis," he smiled at her. She merely nodded slightly as she strode past him.

Zell frowned, and looked up at Selphie as she came down the ramp. "What's wrong with Quistis?" 

Selphie shook her head. "I'm not sure. She didn't speak after she came out of the Memorial."

"She must be really bummed over losing that classmate."  
            "Yeah," Selphie replied thoughtfully. "I guess so."  
  


As she heard the swoosh of the door closing behind her, Quistis breathed out in relief, her shoulders slumping. She walked to the couch and sat down, putting a hand to her forehead.

_What am I going to do?  
            Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she was too drained and confused for crying right now. She just had to make some sense of things. She needed a plan of action._

She got up and walked over to the desk, picking up the black and white photograph. She sat down slowly in the chair, staring at the picture. 

"Gabriel…" she said softly. Then something occurred to her, a question she had asked herself before but never believed the answer truly important.

_Gefrey gave me this picture. Why did he have it? There was no doubt in her mind that it was Gabriel. Even as a small boy, that face was unmistakable. __Sure, it was obvious that Gabriel had been to Starvale before. The people knew him. There is a lot more going on here._

_And I'm going to find out what._

_Knock knock._

Quistis tapped her foot nervously as she waited for one of the occupants to answer the door. It didn't really matter to her which one was home, or even both, because she was prepared to talk to either one, although she did have a preference.

Then the door swished open and she was relieved to see which one had answered.

"Hi, Rinoa," she smiled faintly.

"Oh! Hey, Quisty." Rinoa stepped back to allow room for Quistis's entry. "Please come in." 

Quistis walked past Rinoa and stood in the middle of the living room. Squall had gotten better quarters for himself, mostly to accommodate his new roommate. Unlike Selphie's obscenely decorated place, however, Squall and Rinoa's place was comfortable, no bigger than the two of them needed.

"I'm sorry, but Squall's not here," Rinoa said as she walked towards the small kitchen. 

"That's fine, Rin. I really wanted to talk to you."  
            "Really?" Rinoa replied, genuinely surprised. Her relationship with Quistis was civil and friendly, but they had never gotten close. Rinoa looked up to Quistis like an older sister or aunt, and that feeling had kept them from being overly friend like.

But here Quistis was, standing in her living room, wanting to talk to her. She pointed at the couch. "I'll get us something to drink. You want coffee?"

"Yes, please, black, if you would."

"Sure thing."

Quistis waited nervously while Rinoa moved around the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and pouring the coffee. She returned a few minutes later, sitting down opposite Quistis on the loveseat. While they both took a few sips of their drinks, Rinoa took a moment to study Quistis, and was startled by what she saw.

Dark shadows had formed beneath Quistis's eyes, and her face looked tired. Her shoulders sagged a little, and when she wasn't holding on to the coffee mug, she clasped her hands together tightly, as if to keep from wringing them. 

And then Rinoa reached out with her senses, opening up to tune in to Quistis's state of spirit. 

She covered her mouth to smother a little cry as she touched Quistis's aura, the torment so strong in the blonde SeeD's soul that it made Rinoa's own heart ache.

"Oh, Quisty," she breathed, setting down her mug. "What's wrong?"

Quistis had sensed the touch, felt the tingle of magic run across the surface of her skin, and knew what Rinoa had done. She hadn't minded the contact. Indeed, she longed to share her pain with someone, in some hopes it would lighten the burden.

"The last mission we were on? You remember?"

"How could I forget?" Rinoa said sadly. Despite having been cured of the magical illness that would have eventually consumed his spirit and turned him into a BloodRider, a slave to a being of another plane of existence, Squall had still been in very bad shape when they'd returned to Garden. He'd spent weeks in the infirmary, and had only recently received a clean bill of health from the doctor.

Quistis was silent for many long moments as she tried to organize her thoughts, figure out where to begin. Rinoa shifted in her seat, waiting patiently. 

Finally, when Quistis spoke again, her voice trembled, her eyes clouded. "I fell in love, Rin. I met a man there and I fell in love. I…" Quistis's throat felt thick and her eyes began to burn. "He was the one who gave me the cure to Squall's illness. He had it because he was working for the people who'd caused it. He turned against them at the very last moment, broke his contract and fought against them. And then he sacrificed himself to close the gate they'd opened." Tears began to stream quietly down her face, but she ignored them. Rinoa got up and sat down beside her, putting a small hand on her shoulder.   
            "I got a letter in my room last night. It said there was something of interest at the Almasy Memorial. So I had Selphie fly me out there this morning. Rin…his name was on the pillar!" With this, Quistis's voice cracked. "He was a SeeD!"

Rinoa stroked Quistis's hair as she leaned forward, her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs she couldn't contain anymore. After a few moments, however, Quistis brought herself under control and looked up at the young Sorceress with haunted eyes. 

"I need answers," she whispered. "I need to know which Garden he was from. I need to know who authorized his mission. I need to see his file."

"And you need Squall's terminal to see that file," Rinoa nodded, completing the thought. 

"Yes. Can you help me? Will you?"

Rinoa took a deep breath, looking at Quistis's eyes. She knew it wasn't exactly proper protocol, and Squall would be furious with her if he found out. 

_She should have submitted a request to Cid. She could almost hear his voice, flat and official. Rinoa's voice answered him._

_Fuck protocol. _

She stood up and took Quistis's hand, leading her out of the living room and into the small office. There sat Squall's humming terminal.

Still logged in.

"Sit," she instructed, pulling out the chair. "He never logs off. Just find what you need."

"Thanks, Rin," Quistis breathed. She knew the risk Rinoa was taking. She knew the risk _she was taking. But she had to know._

She pulled up the search engine, and tapped in Gabriel's name with trembling hands. The terminal beeped, the searching message displaying as it searched through the list of operatives. 

The screen went black, and then the information she'd requested was displayed.

**Operative Number: SR29-010158**

**Andovar, Gabriel **

**Sex: M            Age: 25           Height: 6'2"   **

**Hair: Black     Eye: Purple**

**Base: ****Galbadia****Garden******

**Skill Key Words:       magic (high end)**

**                                    magic (unique)**

**                                    broadsword**

**                                    infiltration**

**                                    stealth**

**                                    interrogation**

**                                    persuasion**

**Status: Deceased  (F4 for more information)**

**Civilian Contact: Gefrey Vanderstyll (maternal uncle)**

**Current ****Mission**** Log Number: 837-E32   (F8 for more information)**

**Current ****Mission**** Status: Pending Reassignment**

**Update: Y/N?**

Quistis drew a shaky breath. There it was. 

_Wait. _

_Gefrey Vanderstyll is his uncle?_

That explained a little bit. It explained why Gefrey had possession of a photograph of Gabriel as a child. It explained why everyone in Starvale knew him. 

_Pending Reassignment?_

Quistis felt anger flush her face as she reread the file. Pending reassignment? They were going to assign someone else to his mission? 

"Are they clueless?" she snapped at the innocent computer screen. The ferocity in her voice caused Rinoa to take a step backwards. "Reassign! They're trying to destroy civilization as we know it and you want to _reassign!"_

"Quisty?"  
            Quistis took a deep breath before hitting the print button. "I'm sorry, Rinoa. I just…I don't know what's going on here." She pressed a key, and a new window appeared. 

**Mission**** Log Number 837-E32.**

**Contractor: Nathaniel Krollis **

**Contact Location: Starvale, ****Independent****State******

**Status: Pending Reassignment. **

**Mission believed to have been compromised by Mission Log Number 507-A94, Operative SRA-036174.  Awaiting further instruction from contractor before mission reassignment. **

**Update: Y/N?**

_A name. Not Ana's name…but a man's name. Quistis felt a satisfied smile spread across her face. __So I compromised the mission, huh? You guys ain't seen nothing yet. _

She turned to look at Rinoa, the angry glint in her eyes enough to give the Sorceress chills. 

"I don't know what's going on here," she reiterated. "But I'm going to find out."

The first thing Quistis noticed when she returned to her dorm room was the flashing message on her computer terminal. Her eyebrow raised, she walked over to the screen. She felt a mixture of relief and trepidation as she read the message.

**Trepe, Q. O#: SRA-036174**

**YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED IN THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE AT ****16:00**** HOURS FOR NEW ****MISSION**** ASSIGNMENT.**

**            "Hmm," Quistis murmured, a bitter smile on her face. "Don't worry, Headmaster Cid. I'll be there.**

            "And I just might tell you where to put that mission."


End file.
